


The Claw Dagger

by lady_illiya



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-07
Updated: 2012-07-07
Packaged: 2017-11-09 08:14:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/453290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lady_illiya/pseuds/lady_illiya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arya did not know how she came to be in this situation. One second she was about to get her hands on that beautiful wolf claw dagger, and the next she was being pressed up against the wall of the forge with an angry mouth at her ear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Claw Dagger

**Author's Note:**

> I posted this at ff.net awhile ago but since I'll probably just transition over here since they're finally starting to enforce their policies and this story definitely breaks them.
> 
> If you haven't read it, please enjoy!

Gendry pounded away at the armor he was fixing, the cold blowing through the open window a relief to the heat in the forge. He never thought the north would be this cold until he got here and realized for himself; the Starks certainly are right when they say ‘Winter is Coming’.

Once the war was settled and the brotherhood disbanded, Gendry found himself heading north. Once Bran the new King in the North had rebuilt Winterfell, peace was made with the Dragon Queen. At first he thought his feet were taking him to Winterfell, thinking maybe he could find work smithing for the King, but he never made it past Cerwyn. He had stopped there and started to work odd jobs, planning on making enough coin to finish his journey and have a bit to start off with in Winterfell. However, he could not bring himself to leave. He felt there was a ghost in Winterfell, a ghost of a girl he once knew that he did not think he could face. So he stayed in Cerwyn, just south of Winterfell, eventually taking over the forge when the old master passed.

His skill had grown considerably working for the Brotherhood, he soon had more work than time to complete it, and took on an apprentice, Tom, who learned the craft as well as manned the store connected to the forge.

While he finished buffing out the dent on the chest piece he was working on, Tom ducked into the forge, singling for Gendry’s attention. He lowered his hammer, and wiped the sweat off his forward, nodding for Tom to speak.

“There’s a customer her asking ‘bout the dagger on display, Master Gendry.”

Gendry knew the dagger in question, “You know that it’s not for sale Tom,” he said, waving the boy off and picking his hammer up, intending to get back to work.

But Tom remained, “I know, sir, I told ‘em but the customer insists”.

Gendry hated customers who didn’t listen, he took two swift strides, reaching the curtain connecting to the store and pulling it aside with his hammer, growling “Daggers’ not for sale,” only to find himself facing an empty room. “Tom, you idiot, stop wasting my time and get back to work.”

Returning to his anvil, Gendry thought more on the dagger in question. It was one of his finest pieces, and would fetch a high price if he wished to sell it, only it was meant to be a gift. It was a long dagger, just shy of being considered a sword, with a thin, slightly curved blade, half the width of a normal sword. Its handle was a frightening wolfs paw, with almost excessive detailing. Four sharp claws extended out over the blade, and sheath. The sheath was a violent scene, with four claw marks inlayed with red metal, twisted the length of the cover, showing the wolf slashing at its enemies. It had consumed a great many nights of his time in the brotherhood, when he couldn’t sleep due to his dreams.

_She_ was constantly invading his dreams then, his little she-wolf. Dreams of her dying at the hands of the Hound or at the hands of some faceless foe. Sometimes the Gods would be good to him and send him a dream where they were just sitting together and talking like they used to, but mostly he dreamt of how he left her and was not there when she needed him most. Once he heard of her marriage to the bastard that was _not_ him; and knew her to be alive, his dreams began to take a different turn. She was older in them and so very beautiful; she would still call him a stupid bull headed boy, but that was only after they collapsed from the pleasure their naked bodies created pressed so close together.

Once these dreams began, and he could not close his eyes save to see her writhing in pleasure beneath him, he would go to the forge and try to pound those thoughts from his head. After several occurrences, he finally realized what it was he was creating, a dagger for his little wolf. Smaller then a sword, but perfect for her slight frame. Light enough for her to wield easily and strong enough to cut through her enemies.

After its’ completion, he began his journey north, intending to present it to the King, since giving it to her brother seemed better than no Stark ever receiving it. Except that it was meant for her, so he settled close to Winterfell, so if she was actually alive and did come home he would hear about it, and be able to present it to her himself.

He finished up the chest plate, satisfied with it at last; night had begun to fall while he was lost in his thoughts, so he sent Tom home and closed up shop. He dropped his tired body into the cot in the back of the forge and fell asleep.

_______________________________

Arya was almost home, she landed in White Harbor a fortnight passed, and was traveling along the south side of the river toward Winterfell. She had heard of her younger brothers and sisters’ survival and knew she could not be faceless if Arya Stark still lived hidden in her heart. She paid for a voyage north from Braavos and bought a horse once she landed. While she avoided the main road for most of her journey, she crossed the river at the Kingsroad and followed it into Cerwyn, a town just south of Winterfell.

She kept her head covered at she went through town, intending to stay here for the night before starting for home at first light. After paying for a room at a local inn, watering her horse, she decided to explore the town, as she had not been there since she was a child, and it seemed to have changed quite a bit.

She found the blacksmith’s shop and slid in, intending to see if anything caught her eye and something certainly did. Sitting on the counter in front of a young boy, was the most beautiful dagger Arya had seen. It seemed to glow in comparison to all the metal around it. If anything screamed Arya Stark it was this weapon. She walked up to the counter to examine it closer, the handle seemed built for her hand, the blade gleaming, screaming for her to use it. She turned toward the boy, who was watching her intently. “How much?”

“Sorry, that’s not for sale,” replied the boy, trying to look under her hood to see her face.  “Just t’ show what the Master can do.”

“Well why show it if it is not for sale? I wish to buy it, go find out how much it will cost for him to part with it,” Arya demanded, knowing she was going to get this blade one way or another.

The boy shuffled to the curtain where the forge must have been located, given the sounds of metal singing. The hammer stopped, and Arya heard the boy murmur something, she moved closer to hear what was being said.

“-at it’s not for sale Tom,”

Arya’s heart stopped. No, he was surely dead, how could that stubborn bull have survived the wars while running around with the brotherhood. She skipped closer, silent as a shadow, and peered through the curtain. She had to stifle a gasp, and then sneaked out the front before he could pull the curtain back.

Leaning against the outside of the forge Arya had to calm her racing heart. He was here. Just a day’s ride from her home. He was here working in a forge, bigger then she remembered, taller; but his _eyes_ , there was no denying it, those bright blue eyes and that black, black hair could only belong to her Gendry. One of the lost members of her pack.

She did not know what to do, if she wanted to face him or not; he was the one who was planning on leaving her, why should she come back to him after that? She thought back on that dagger, it was meant for her, she knew it when she saw it, and knowing it came from Gendry only confirmed her feeling. Well, if he didn’t want to sell it, she would just take it herself, the faceless men taught her well. Plus she’d leave some coin on the counter to appease him.

_______________________________

He was dreaming of her again, but this time she was a direwolf, moving so softly he couldn’t hear her feet-no paws- touch the ground. She walked slowly toward him, pausing right before him, standing up on her hind legs and placing her front paws on his shoulders. Except now they were hands, and he saw her face, clearer then it’s been in any other dream, she must have been seven and ten now, five years younger than him. Her long brown hair was curling softly at the ends, and brushed against him as she leaned forward. Her grey eyes pinning him against the wall of the forge, her lips getting closer and closer until---

He opened his eyes, sighing, ‘so close’ he thought, she looked so beautiful, he could even see her light freckles dancing across her nose. But something was wrong, he couldn’t hear anything, it was too quiet, he sat up a quietly as he could, turning toward the curtain to the store. Furrowing his brows, he thought, “I locked up, and I didn’t hear anything, there can’t be anyone there”. But something was putting him on edge. He crept up toward the doorway, and there he was! A thief inches away from his-Aryas!- dagger. He leapt forward, grabbing the small boy and pinning him against the wall of the forge.

“Who do you think you are, thief, to think you’d get away with stealing from me,” He breathed angrily in the boy’s ear.

The boy wiggled against his hold, but Gendry held tight. He moved more vigorously and suddenly Gendry was aware of some interesting curves brushing up against him.

‘A girl?’ Gendry thought, ‘what kind a girl steals a dagger?’ He thought unwittingly of Arya, ‘besides her, she’s lost, remember you idiot’. He leaned his face away from the boy-no girls ear, taking both of her small hands in one of his, he reached up and pulled the hood away from her face.

Gasping, Gendry almost released his hold on her. It couldn’t be; but those eyes, those freckles, it was his dream all over again. This couldn’t be real, she could _be_ here of all places.

“ _Arya?_ ” He whispered.

How did he catch her?! She was as being as silent as a shadow, no one could even sense her when she was trying to not be seen or heard. Yet, one second she was about to get her hands on that beautiful wolf claw dagger, and the next she was being pressed up against the wall of the forge with an angry mouth at her ear.

“Who do you think you are, thief, to think you’d get away with stealing from me,” He-Gendry, she thought, breathed into her ear.

His voice sent tingles through her body, she knew she could get out of his hold in seconds if she wanted, but somehow her training slipped her mind. And she started squiring to get him to let her go. She felt his hard chest press against her to try and get her to stop moving, but it only made her fight harder. She couldn’t handle this, being so close to him, his smell, him surrounding her, her brain just shut off.

Her hood was being pulled down, and she found herself staring into those bright blue eyes she saw a glimpse of earlier. His breath went out of him in a puff, blowing on her face, causing her to blink up at him as her name fell from her lips in a whisper, _“Arya?”_

Breathless, staring into those grey eyes, his dream came back to him, and before he could stop himself he found himself leaning in. He felt Arya’s quick intake of breath when she realized what he was doing, and then his lips were on hers.

All thoughts left his mind when he finally felt the lips he’s been dreaming of. Pressing himself closer, his struggling brain forced a thought through, ‘she wasn’t kissing him back’. He pulled away disappointed but the look in her eyes almost made him dive back in for more. She was staring up at him with a shocked look of arousal, pupils dilated, and lips parted.

“Arya, I’m sorry, I-” He started, only to be cut off by her leaning forward, stopping inches from his lips.

“Gendry,” She whispered, lips brushing lightly over his, “I’ve missed you”. Then she was kissing him.

Gendry pressed back, moving his hands to her waist. Her now free hands snaked around his neck pulling him down toward her, deepening the kiss. His grip tightened around her small waist as he lifted her easily off the ground, holding her against the wall with his large frame. His tongue sneaked out, brushing against her lips, she complied, opening her mouth for him. Their tongues danced as they explored each other’s mouths, as Gendry pulled back, Arya’s teeth dragged across his lower lip, giving him a little nip.

He moved to her ear, whispering her name as he trailed soft kisses down her neck. Arya sighed as his lips brushed the pulse point on her neck, turning into a gasp as he started to suck gently, wanting so badly to mark her as his own. Gendry groaned against her skin as she arched into him, wanting more.

“Oh God, _Gendry_ ” Arya moaned, pulling her legs up to wrap around his waist. Grabbing his head in her hands, she pulled him in for another burning kiss. He froze as he felt her roll her hips into his, feeling her hot core press into him.

Pulling himself away from her was difficult. They panted, staring into each others eyes, hips still connected as he held her up. “Arya, we can’t-we have to stop this.” He forced himself to say, knowing that if they continued he would lose himself to her and not be able to stop.

A flicker of hurt passed in her eyes before Gendry saw defiance replace it. Her arms dropped from his shoulder reaching for the hem of her tunic, grabbing the fabric and pulling it over her head and depositing it on the floor before Gendry could stop her.

_She wasn’t wearing small clothes_ , he registered dimly as he gazed transfixed to her chest. Where she used to be flat as a board, she now had the most beautiful tits he had seen. Not outlandishly large, but firm, and big enough to be the perfect handful for him. Her hands ghosted up his chest to his shoulders, nails biting through cloth, pricking at his skin, pulling him closer. “ _Gendry_ ” he heard her sigh, and any resistance he may have hand since she removed her tunic vanished.

Her lips attacked his, her tongue shooting out like a bolt of electricity, drawing his tongue into her mouth, her lips closing around it and giving it a little suck. He felt his cock pulse, throbbing until he gripped her hips, lifting her closer to wedge his hard length against the heated mound of her cunt. His hips pressed into her, flexing, stroking the sensitive cloth covered folds of her pussy. He briefly wondered if she had anything on under them. He wanted nothing more than to rip them from her body and push hard and deep into her. As he ground into her he felt her match each thrust with one of her own, needy moans leaving her mouth.

He wanted to be everywhere at once, his lips and his hands reaching every part of her body he didn’t think he would ever get the chance to see or touch. He started where he left off, diving toward her neck and nipping a trail downwards. Pausing to give special attention to her collar born; he was forcing himself to go slow, to enjoy this, but she was getting impatient. Her hands grasped at his shirt, pulling it out from his sleeping trousers. He knew he would have to let go of her to take off his clothes, so he pulled her away from the wall, her legs tightening around his hips, keeping him close to her. He stumbled toward the back room toward his cot as she started in on his neck, sucking at his pulse point. He deposited her on the cot; standing up and taking the time to gaze down at her. Her lips swollen and red, breasts heaving and begging for his touch, trousers bunched up with a hit of a dark mark between her legs where her wetness had begun to seep through.

She laid there, staring up at him, her gaze leaving a fiery path as she dragged her eyes down to the bulge straining against his smallclothes. She arched a brow, snapping her gaze back to his, her eyes almost challenging.

He acted quickly, almost tearing his tunic in his haste to remove it. His pants dropped next and he was left standing in front of her as naked as his initial name day. She stared unabashedly at his manhood, eyes flashing with desire, tongue sneaking out to run along her lips, and before he could think he was on top of her chasing that tongue back into her mouth. He felt her arch into him, could feel the hard points of her nipples burning into his flesh, making his mouth water to taste them.

He did not wait to put his thoughts to action; cupping one breast in his hand, the other he took into his mouth, focusing his tongue on the pinpoint of her nipple. His mouth rasped over her skin, ranking her breast before biting down on the nipple. His hand played with her other breast, kneading it and brushing a calloused thumb over the sensitive flesh. As he lifted his mouth off her teat with a soft pop he glanced up at her face, which was thrown back in ecstasy, a blush had risen up her neck, making her look like fire and desperate for him. He dipped his mouth back down, tailing kisses down her tight stomach, tongue dipping lightly in her belly button before hovering above the drawstring of her cloth pants. Dragging his hands down her body, he only hesitated a second before reaching to untie the little knot and yanking down her pants, letting her kick them off when they pooled at her feet.

His hope held true, she was not wearing anything under her trousers, and her cunt, covered in the softest brown curls, was exposed, creamy wetness gleaming in the soft light of the moon. He must have spent too much time staring in appreciation because his little she-wolf growled at him, and a hazy look of anger flashed, telling him he better start touching her _now_.

He lowered his shoulders between her thighs, his lips going immediately to the soaked, aching folds of her pussy. His hands gripped her thighs as he lightly spread her legs, giving him more access. He licked at the moisture that seeped out of her flushed body, his tongue lapping up with sweetness and it rounded the sensitive nub before darting into the dripping hole. His tongue drove deep inside her vagina as his hands slide up and dug into her hips, lifting her more as she arched into his mouth. Her breathing had picked up, turning into gasps of air as he felt her bury her fingers in his hair, pressing his face further into her, thighs closing to tighten on his head. He could feel her body shaking as she rose closer and closer to the edge.

He had every intension of getting her to climax with his tongue if he could, willing to withhold his own pleasure. No matter how much he wanted her, he could not bring himself to take her maidenhood outside of marriage; she was high born after all and would need her maidenhood intact, he thought bitterly.

One of his hands left her hip, moving to her clit, circling the hard, swollen bud, tugging a little and he ran his tongue to it, sucking it into his mouth. Her hands pulled his hair, yanking him away from her juices and up to her lips demanding he release her from the built up tension in her body.

He responded eagerly, feeling her tongue reach out and taste herself on his lips. She bucked her hips, on leg swinging around his hips and pulling him tight against her. He groaned into her mouth at the feel of her wet heat rubbing against his heady cock. Pulling away lightly, he growled, “Arya, oh seven hells, Arya! We can’t, I can’t take you—you’re a maiden, _damn-it_!”

Her lips pressed against his again, a hint of desperation touching her voice, “No, I’m not,” she gasped between kisses, rocking her hips into his. “Lost it…ages ago…God _Gendry_! I need you in me; I need you now! I can’t take much more of this.”

Freezing, he was torn between anger that someone else had had her first, and the desire that surged straight toward his member, making it pulse with the knowledge that he could take her for himself. Not only that, but knowing that she was begging him to touch her, to take her, sent his already heightened body into a state of eager vibration.

One muscular arm wrapped around her hips to hold her in place as his shaft began to invade her, pushing through the tight muscles as they tensed, stretching to accommodate him. As the tip of his cock buried inside her, he hesitated, still worried his large member could still hurt her. She was just so _tight_. She wrapped her legs around him, tightening at the small of his back, trying to force his cock inside her, wanting to be filled with him. He slowly worked his broad length back and forth, his hips rocking against her as he tunneled further inside her. Finally giving in and pushing in to the hilt, his balls pressed against the sweet cream that still leaked from her, surrounding his member. He began slowly, pulling almost all the way out before gliding strong and swiftly in to fill her to the rim again. They fit like puzzle pieces; his lips demanding hers as he gradually began to increase the speed and strength of his thrusts, her cunt clenching at his penis, trying to hold it in her whenever he came close to pulling out completely. She bit his lip, dragging her mouth to his shoulder, sucking the skin there as he surged hot and hard inside her. He felt her bite down as grasped her hips, pulling her tight against him, forcing himself deeper.

He could feel his muscles trembling as he fought to control himself, felt his need for her reaching a peak he had never known with the women he’d been with before. She was hot and sweet, and _finally_ his after all his dreaming. He did not want to rush this or finish before she was fully satisfied.

She met his hard thrusts, gasping and mewing soft sounds of need. He drove into her repeatedly, knowing that neither would be able to last much longer. His heated groans mixed with her silent scream as his flesh raked the swollen bug of her clit and sent her body into an explosive orgasm. He met her scorching gaze as he felt her vagina tighten around him, squeezing him as her climax tore through her, taking him over the edge with her. His length pulsed as he emptied his seed into her, her name on his lips.

She collapsed beneath him, fighting to catch her breath as he followed her, catching his weight on his arms as to not crush her. He lay there, holding himself above her, his cock still soft inside her. Staring into each others’ eyes they panted, reveling in the pleasure that just rattled through them. He slowly pulled himself out, a brief flash a pleasure shooting up his spine. Dropping down beside her, he laid facing her, brushing her hair out of her face. Turning to his back, he felt her roll in his direction, and he felt his arm act on its own, wrapping around her and pulling her close, as the other grabbed the bunched up blanket and pulled it over them.

“I’m taking that dagger, Gendry.” She whispered against his chest.

He barked out a laugh, “Of course you are, it was made for you after all.”

“You know what else I’m taking with me?” She said as she settled deeper into him, closing her eyes.

“hmmm…what?” He murmured, on the edge of sleep.

“You.”

_______________________________

_The End_

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a review whore sooooo comment if you have any thoughts on this :D.


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